[Someday, perhaps, in the distant future, if the stars align and Rosalind is very drunk, she may admit that she finds him fairly attractive, in an insufferable sort of way.]
I only married you for your powers, darling. You haven't given me a single silver.
[God, but she's in a good mood now. Maybe it is giddy relief at not having to do anything but chat after nearly a week of so much horror. Rosalind finds herself smiling, though she'd been ready to slap him not an hour ago.
Ah, well. Such is the reality of their relationship: veering wildly between fury and trust. Right now it swings in the latter's direction, and Rosalind reclines back, resting her back against the couch's arm, stretching her legs out. She's not so tall she needs to drape them over his lap, but they nudge at his leg, at least.]
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I only married you for your powers, darling. You haven't given me a single silver.
[God, but she's in a good mood now. Maybe it is giddy relief at not having to do anything but chat after nearly a week of so much horror. Rosalind finds herself smiling, though she'd been ready to slap him not an hour ago.
Ah, well. Such is the reality of their relationship: veering wildly between fury and trust. Right now it swings in the latter's direction, and Rosalind reclines back, resting her back against the couch's arm, stretching her legs out. She's not so tall she needs to drape them over his lap, but they nudge at his leg, at least.]
Don't tell me he grows a beard.